


Cautious

by di_lamerr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/di_lamerr/pseuds/di_lamerr
Summary: A collection of drabbles/sudden fiction showing the relationship between Ron and Pansy.





	1. Chapter 1

Her shoes echo on the wooden floors, he opened his mouth to make a remark about how ugly they are, cause they are, strange shaped platforms with wings! But closes his mouth instead.  
The night is young, and she can be as bad as his mother when her things are insulted.  
She cares about stuff like that, shoes, a cottage in the right area, her salvaged reputation, his pristine reputation.

She once told him that she'd made Lucius Malfoy pay her more to get out of the betrothal than the Malfoys had paid in reparations.  
He had thought she was exaggerating until she'd ask the goblins to have a curse removed from something in her vault.  
There are laws governing ex-death eater sympathizers now, Ron had shrugged his shoulders when the file came through, too senior and too cautious, dating Hermione for a few years will do that to a man, he'd kept his arse at his desk. But as a senior officer, he'd had to sign off on the auror's statement.  
She hadn't exaggerated.  
The next time they had attended an event, separately, he watched Lucius Malfoy greet her with a bow, a kiss to both cheeks, and leery respect.  
He realized he may have been under estimating the woman he was sleeping with.

 

He listened to her heels click all the way to the kitchen.  
“Are you coming, or just sitting on your arse watching my telly?”  
Ron gave a small pout.  
“Are you feeding me dinner, or should I apparate this arse home?”  
Two clicks of her heels echoed, a sign of impatience or nervousness.  
“I'll let you drive the V8 if you shut the fuck up and come.”  
He stood, if she was offering to let him drive something was up. His driving hadn't improved that much from when he'd taken the Ford Anglia.


	2. Order

She wasn't drinking, it was a Friday night and she hadn't touched her wine, instead sipping on some fancy lemon drink he was pretty sure didn't include a lick of alcohol. It was so unlike her, Friday nights they'd drink to slight inebriation, fall into bed, and refuse to get up; unless it was the third Saturday, at which point Harry sent his patronus swearing at him for being late for their pick up Quidditch match.  
It was ordered, but not Order! He could stand the first, the second gave him flash backs of colored coded charts with times to have sex high lighted in red.

“So are you going to tell me what's wrong?”  
She pouts at him, and twitches her nose, the new one she's had since coming back from France. It's cute, more aquiline than stubbed like it used to be.  
The twitch is never good. The twitch came out the first time when he'd invited her to Percy's wedding.  
She'd stared at him, the nose had twitched, and she had explained how bad of an idea she thought it'd be.  
Then when his mother had commented that he should date someone he'd told her, the twitch had made an appearance. Too soon, too much, they'd hate her.  
Its been two years of his being not ready to date anyone new. His whole family knew it was a lie, he'd caught so many tracking spells, invisibility cape tag a-longs, and bugs, he knew they thought he was seeing someone who was married, or a man.

A tear dropped from her russet eyes.  
“I'm pregnant.”  
His heart stopped. She was pregnant! He was going to be a father! His mother was going to kill him because he wasn't married!  
Harry was going to lose it, they'd have kids going to school together! He was going to be a dad! She was still crying silently, crying! fuck! He was tempted to lunge across the table and kiss her, but she'd probably hex him.  
“Is that all? Dammit Pansy you almost gave me a heart attack!”  
She stopped stifling and stared, “You're not angry?”  
“I do know how babies are made you know.”  
“No! Not that you muppet! I've gone and ruined your life, now you've got a bastard from a Death Eater's daughter, you'll never get another promotion even if you are one of the golden trio!”  
He laughed, “I'll never get much higher cause my name is Ron Weasley, not Harry Potter. Unless he goes off the to Wizengamot I'm assured to be atleast two promotions behind him.”  
She gave him a look.  
“That doesn't bother you?”  
“Course not. I've been thinking, George offered me a place helping him manage the business. It's loads better not having people try to kill you, and dealing with filing in triplicate. The pay is better, and I get a percentage of the business, and a cut of any thing I come up with.”  
He gave her a pleased smile, “I've got about twenty pranks in the store, and the easy peasy chess set, I've got most of retirement funded. And if he agrees and we do the adult toys, I'll be better than comfortable.”  
“Oh.”  
“Oh?”  
She was cleaning up her face, wiping her nose.  
“Well Draco offered...”  
“Wait you told the ferret!”  
“He's my healer you twat.”  
“You've been to the healers?”  
“I thought I was sick!”  
“You didn't say anything to me?”  
“I didn't want you to worry you fuckwit.”  
She glares him into silence.  
“Anyway he offered to marry me, give the baby a father if you...”  
“NO!”  
“Could you not shout, we look like those low class people who have rows in public.”  
“You aren't marrying Malfoy and having him play daddy to my son Pansy.”  
“You don't even know if it's a boy! You don't even know if I want to keep you!”  
He smirked  
“I'm keeping you that's all that matters.”  
“You really are a pain in the arse Ronald.”


	3. Chapter 3

Pansy was pulling at her jumper, it refused to lay right she said. He'd have told her she was just a bit plump in the tummy, but she knew and that's probably why she was upset.  
He was leaving to bring his parents back to her place. She'd refused to hear of meeting them at the Burrow.  
She needed to be on her home ground, surrounded by her things, Malfoy a floo powder pinch away. He didn't like it, but he understood.  
“You look beautiful.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead ruffling perfect bangs, she brushed her hand over the bangs.  
“I feel fat!”  
“You look amazing, and when this is done I'll take you to bed.”  
“No thank you!”  
“Pansy!”  
“What? Sex is what got us here to begin with you ginger beast!”  
“Well just wait then, my brothers all said their wives were insatiable in the second trimester. Four weeks from now you'll be all over this ginger beast.”  
He chose that moment to apparate. Never let the Slytherin get the last word.

 

He watched her and his mother walk her garden, she was showing his mother the fruit trees, she'd paid some tree expert to come from America ward and plant a bunch of fruit trees because she needed to have lemons year round. He didn't ask.  
“So all this time?”  
He had the sense to blush at his father.  
“Sorry.”  
“It would have been nice to include her the whole time.”  
“Yeah, but people aren't always nice to her. I think she wanted to protect me, keep anyone from saying she was using me.”  
“Are you going to marry her?”  
“She'll let me know when she's ready.”  
“Son the responsibility lays with you.”  
Ron shrugged.  
“When she first came back as the owner of Gladrags no one would do business with her except the purebloods, know what she did? She bought Madam Malkin's and Twilfitt and Tatting. Bought them! All those people that thought that by not going to Gladrags they were going to put her out of business were just putting more money in her pockets.”  
He turned then, “They didn't know for atleast four years, pissed Hermione right off.”  
He smiled at his father,  
“That's how we started talking, she sent me a drink for my freedom from tyranny.”  
He looked out the window again.  
“She independent dad, she's been through a lot. We all know what the Malfoys went through, but I think they all did. There's this muggle thing call PTSD, Post traumatic stress disorder; the muggle electricity went out once, she almost hit me with a stunner.”  
“Son?”  
“I'm not trying to fix her dad. I'm broken too, I know. But we are broken in the right places.”  
His father rests his hand on his back, and they watch his mother and Pansy poke at fruit trees.


	4. Wrong

Ginny promised! That's the first thought he has when he sees the cars outside.  
If there are seven cars, there's triple that in brooms, ten times that in floo-ers, and people who will apparate in.  
Pansy groans next to him. “We could as well, they've got Millie in there.  
“Bulstrode!”  
“That's her Land Rover there.”  
“That ugly thing?”  
“Oi I'll have you know the Queen drives one Weasley!”  
“It's still ugly Pansy, the Queen is old. she's probably got car-tar-tars, she can't tell it's ugly as shite”  
“Cataracts,”  
“That's what I said.”  
“Keep lying to yourself all you want, but I've got to pee, and I want to meet Granger's boyfriend. Your sister says he looks like Snape.”

 

Someone was going to die.  
If he was lucky it'd be Harry who had just stolen a egg sandwich out of his sister's plate, but it was more likely to be Pansy or Hermione.  
Hermione was like a dog with a bone, she'd over heard Bulstrode telling Charlie something about imports and had jutted her mouth in. Pansy had cackled at her, told her she was wrong, and it had gone down hill from there.  
Hermione's new boyfriend was standing at his side,  
“So should we?”  
He gestured towards them.  
“Are you mad?”  
“Your girlfriend is pregnant.”  
“Even more reason for me not to get involved mate, don't cross pregnant women.”  
He pointed  
His sister slapped Harry around the head as he attempted to steal another sandwich.  
“But Hermione.”  
Ron cut him off.  
“She's wrong. Bulstrode, the one with the big tits channeling the Queen at Balmoral with the plaid? She raises pegasi and thestrals, always is bringing in some special food. Pansy imports furs, lots of her bits are considered potions ingredients as well. If they treat them before importation they can't be used in potions, and there is a totally different importation rule. Charlie wants to sell the dragon skins to make shoes. Hermione's points don't matter, but she'll never listen til she sees it in a book.”  
“Ah I see.”  
“Ronald Weasley by the way.”  
“Carson Cranston.”  
“Parents had a thing for alliteration?”  
“I've got a sister, Catherine, and a bother Cadogan.”  
“My girlfriend's Pansy Parkinson, she near hexed me when I said we should name the baby Weston Weasley if it was a boy.”  
“As she should.”  
“Look Bulstrode's got the import papers, sit, get comfy, you are about to see a rare occurrence?”  
“Really?”  
“Oh yes, welcome to the once a decade phenomenon of Hermione Granger being wrong.”

 

“You know Granger you would be Minister of Magic if you'd shut up and listen.”  
Ron tapped Carson.  
“That's our sign. Bulstrode is giving compliments, after that she starts pouring gin, talking about her animals, and showing pictures. Like you can see thestrals in pictures.”  
They stood, Ron realized that the man did look like Snape, just less angular, and his face didn't have the bitterness of decades etched into it.  
“You play quidditch?”  
“Quodpot.”  
“Oh it's the same thing, yours just explodes. Third Saturday at my parents, have her bring you, if you fly she'll hold you and squeal. It's the best way of shutting her up I know.”


	5. Maybe

“I hate Hogwarts!”  
“Be reasonable.”  
“I didn't say I wanted to level the place, I just hate it!”  
“They didn't change the uniforms to spite you.”  
“Yes they did! McGonagall hates me.”  
“Be reasonable Pansy.”  
He slowed the rhythmic movement of his hands on her foot.  
“Just think.”  
“If you stop massaging my feet, I'll hex your bullocks off.”  
“I'm not stopping. Swear. So what's the gossip?”

This was part of their routine, he couldn't talk about his job, and by the time the information got to him she'd know anyway, from who was dating whom at Hogwarts, to the newest mistress of an unspeakable, they all passed through her doors. The only person anyone spilled more to was their hair dresser.

“Granger's boyfriend is going to propose.”  
His hands stilled, he thought for a moment, and then started massaging again.  
“How did you find out?”  
“Hmmm” She folded her lip in, and squinted at him, deciding if to tell him.  
“He bought the ring from the same place Draco buys his jewelry.”  
“Does Malfoy even buy that kind of thing in London?”  
“Don't be silly! He shops in Paris, and bribes the clerk to send him news if anyone from this side comes in.”  
“Pans, you realize that's awful suspicious for a healer right?”  
“Maybe? I think he's being prudent. So what do you think of the news?”  
“Good for them.”  
“Does this mean I'll get that Gryfindor monstrosity you've got hidden in your underwear drawer before she gets hers?”  
“I don't know, do you want it?”  
“Not in that gold setting.”  
“So I guess you'll have to wait then.”  
“That's fine, you should take it over to Perferiitis.”  
He must have given her his, huh face.  
“Next to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, ask for Artemis. She's good, reasonable, and knows my style.”  
“So are we engaged now?”  
“Maybe.”


	6. Chapter 6

The most of the family was sitting waiting, Pansy was in the crock of his arm dosing, babies took a really long to come. He seemed to forget that each time the floo came demanding his presence at St Mungos.   
Stop, eat first, the little bugger will take forever, and the cafeteria food can't decide if it wants to give you the runs, or sit like a ten pound weight for four days.  
Harry had came out with bags under his eyes, and bright smiles, then went back in.   
His mother, Angelina, and Fleur had started to trade labour tales until he realized that Pansy, an only child with no close friends with children had no idea what labour entailed and was listening petrified.   
A swift hex at Bill, and they had changed the subject to booties, and the need for preemie nappies even for babies born full term.

He felt more than saw her belly roil with the movement of the baby, under her jumper the small body undulated. She shifted and he put his hand full on her tummy, rubbing, willing his son to let his mother rest.  
She mumbled something in her sleep, his name and the word love recognizable.   
His mother beamed at him, George ruffled his hair in passing. Hermione lifts her head from her chat with Percy, and looks at them.

This isn't what he thought his future would be, and it is.  
He thought he'd be here with Hermione, and they'd be married, and it would have been perfect.  
But this? This is his perfect.   
Pansy doesn't think he's stupid, she may imply he's not using his brain, vehemently, while cursing in two languages, but unlike Hermione who made him into an origami version of himself, Pansy's always been willing to allow him to be him.  
Underwear on the floor? House elf.  
Inability to cook? She couldn't cook either, and didn't care if the elf cooked every meal, or they ate take out everyday.  
She didn't mind him taking the sports pages, even if that meant he also had the Wizengamot pages, because she wanted the financial pages, and the gossip column.  
His fixation with having multiple chess boards at various points of a game? She'd rolled her eyes when the first had followed him to her cottage, then pointed to her library, and her father's set.  
She didn't care he didn't read books often. She would curse at the wireless with him when Quidditch was on.  
She'd made space for him in her life. Listened to him as he worked through problems, given him advice but not taken offense when he didn't take it.

 

The door to Ginny's room opens Harry's standing with a blue bundle in his hands, tear tracks down his face.  
He whispers his words solemnly, “Our son, James Sirus Potter.”  
Ron wakes Pansy, and they wait their turn with his his nephew. The fifth time the title is bestowed on him, but so much more important this time. Harry his Harry. Harry who put up with more of his shite than his brothers, and loved him even when he lost faith and left. His throat tightens and Pansy sensing something rubs his shoulder.  
“And this is your Uncle Ron, your godfather.”  
Ron stares at the bundle in Harry's arms, James's eyes are closed. He takes him easily with the practice of someone who has baby sat plenty.  
“Hey James, I'm your Uncle Ron.”  
The baby sleeps on, Ron stares at the baby in his hands, “Your godfather.”

Harry darts his eyes to Pansy, telling Ron to offer her James to hold, the selfish part wants to keep holding the baby, his first god child.  
But he does as Harry's wide eyes insist.  
Pansy takes the baby, she isn't trembling, but she's nervous, her voice quavers just a bit as she says “Hello James.”  
James opens his eyes wide at the sound of her voice.  
“Oh.”  
She smiles at the baby in awe, 

“Dyro Myrddin dy Nawdd;  
Ag yn Nawdd, Pwyll;  
Ag ymhwyll, Goleuni;  
Ag yngoleuni, Gwirionedd;  
Ag yngwirionedd, Cyfiawnder;  
Ag ynghyfiawnder, Cariad;  
Ag ynghariad, Cariad Myrddin ;  
Ag ynghariad Myrddin , pob Gwynfyd.  
Myrddin a phob Daioni.”

His parents echo the last words with her, his mother's eyes shining with tears, and a smile.  
“I don't know the last time I've heard that.”  
Harry looks between Pansy and his parents questioningly, and Ron stares at her, because she's smiling at the baby with a peaceful look that he's never seen on her face, before she hands James back to Harry.  
“It's Welsh, a prayer really from before,”   
She doesn't say when before and Harry doesn't ask.  
“It is a blessing,  
Grant, Merlin, Thy protection;  
And in protection, reason;  
And in reason, light;  
And in light, truth;  
And in truth, justice;  
And in justice, love;  
And in love, the love of Merlin;  
And in the love of Merlin, gwynfyd.  
Merlin and all goodness”  
Harry looks at his son, and back to her. “It was perfect. Thank you.”


	7. Draco

Pansy is sick of being pregnant, Ron is pretty sick of her being pregnant too.  
She had cravings for champagne! She would sit sniffing the bottle, shooting him spiteful looks, mumbling that his Weasley sperm had obliterated her birth control, then burst into tears, and demand to be held.  
He hasn't eaten Shepard's Pie in months! She hates the smell of beef, and he's pretty sure she's put a charm to him to know when he sneaks into London for burgers for lunch.  
He would complain, but Harry and his sister are walking zombies, up all night with a crying James, and he's holding out hope that their baby will have an easier temperament. Yeah right. 

 

Slytherins are a strange bunch, as soon as the news of Pansy's pregnancy found its way to the front of The Prophet, they started sending gift vouchers, and gifts not one of his friends would have thought to buy.  
Muggle is in, the Purebloods found haute couture.  
There are tons of boxes that only because of Malfoy they know what's in them.  
It was Hermes stuffed horses that made her give up, at atleast a hundred and twenty galleons each, they ended up with three! Pansy rocked her way into London to return two, and returned with a blanket just as ugly as anything his mother ever knitted! And he told her just that, he can't even complain to his mother about the stinging hex she sent his way, his parents, siblings, and Harry had warned him  
When he walks in the house to Malfoy quick quill floating behind him doing inventory, Ron sends silent thanks to Merlin.  
After Malfoy is done he hands Ron the list, and they share a silent drink glaring out the window trying to find the Bowtruckles Pansy swears live in the lemon tree.  
Ron realizes it's inevitable, he's got to call the man Draco at some point in the future.


	8. Toast

Around the eighth month his sisters in law, mother, Bulstrode, and Mrs Malfoy try to plan a shower. There may have been cursing, and a bat boogey.  
So Pansy decides that a dinner at their house is best, neutral ground, and they are warded to Circe's tits.  
His mother cooks, Nips the house elf at her elbow tugging his ears an anxiety riddled mess at someone cooking in his kitchen.  
Then in swans Malfoy with a case of champagne, Bulstrode clears Harrods out of tea and chocolate, the Greengrass sisters bring something called jambalaya, Zambini portkeys from Japan with half a store of strange fruit each in its own bloody gift box, Goyle's mother and Mrs Malfoy bring enough sherry trifle, Victoria sponge, and Battenburg cake to make every firstie gain ten pounds.  
Hermione's cheese platter is a flop, the jambalaya was cleaned out before he could hide a plate, his mother's roasted chicken sits unloved, and that's before his dad gets the bright idea to go around asking people to say a few words to the happy couple.

When it's over Ron hands her a bottle of Malfoy's pricey champagne.  
“You deserve to sniff the best.”


	9. Chapter 9

Harry “Labour is hell mate.”  
Bill gives him a long talk about how seeing your significant other in pain bringing your child into the world is powerful, and to get a good charm for the screaming.  
Hermione gives him a book that almost makes him lose his dinner, it's banished immediately.

Pansy doesn't even know she's in labour until it's too late to get her into the floo.  
It's sort of anti climatic, Draco marches out of the floo to the bathroom where Pansy is naked in the tub, silent, except for cursing when either of them suggest getting out of the water. Instead they sit with her, Draco seated regally on the toilet. Ron in the water shriveled, half moon nail prints from her nails making patterns along his arms.  
Pansy never cries out, never screams, or moan, she just rests against him and digs in her fingers at each contraction.  
Rose Weasley is born under water into her father's hands. Her godfather at his side.  
The first words she hears is, “Bloody hell, he's a girl!”  
The first silent promises kissed on to her forehead swear she will always know peace, and love.


End file.
